


You'll Thank Me When Fort McComfy Is Finished

by dorkilysoulless (custodian)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Jared Padalecki Cannot Be Trusted, M/M, Misha Collins is a Sweary Motherfucker, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sick Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/custodian/pseuds/dorkilysoulless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared can't resist giving Misha hell, even when he's sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Thank Me When Fort McComfy Is Finished

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for [Hellatus Prompt Fic Tuesday](http://itfeltpurefic.tumblr.com/hellatus) on my Tumblr blog.

Misha officially looks like hell. If he were to bet, Jared would say the only thing keeping him upright is the headboard.

“Here you go,” Jared says and hands Misha the mug. “Chicken soup. With a handle this time.”

Misha takes it with a weak smile. He’s pale, and his bed hair has crossed the line from endearing to increasingly unfortunate. “You’re not going to let me live that down are you?”

“The first time, yeah. The second time, though…”

“Dick.”

“Hey, I’ve only got so many blankets,” Jared says, holding his hands up in mock protest.

Misha rolls his eyes. “You have more blankets than anybody I know, Jay.”

“Canada gets cold!”

“Whatever.” Misha drinks his soup.

Jared rumples his hair. “Yell if you need me.”

“Yep.”

# # #

When he checks in later, Misha’s asleep, sprawled over the bed with blankets askew. The cup — empty now — is on the nightstand, surrounded by wadded up tissues. A half-read paperback rests on the pillow beside Misha’s head.

Jared picks the book up and marks the page, then leans over to straighten the blankets.

If he nudges Misha to see just how deep he’s sleeping, well, that’s just being thoughtful, right? Just like going to his hall closet and pulling all of his blankets off the shelf and tucking Misha into them like a scruffy, sniffling burrito is an excellent display of hospitality.

# # #

“Jared.”

He looks up from his book. Well, Misha’s book. After the blankets, it was pretty obvious that the side of the bed Misha wasn’t sprawled out on was clearly the most comfortable part of the house. “Oh hey, you’re up.”

“No, Jared. I’m not up. Somebody appears to have mummified me with his excessive collection of warm bedding.”

“You look really cozy.” Jared brushes at Misha’s bangs. “Snug as a bug in a rug, even.”

“It’s hard to be cozy when my bladder is threatening to explode, Jared.”

Okay, so maybe he didn’t think this through.

# # #

Thing is, when Misha is sick, he doesn’t move a whole lot.

Jared…well, maybe he kind of likes stacking things when he’s bored.

So it probably shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone when the sound of Misha waking up strongly resembles the noise thirty-five red Solo cups make when they clatter to the floor.

# # #

“Nobody owns this many pillows, Jared.”

“I do.”

“Please tell me you didn’t go out and buy extra pillows for this.” Misha starts to push up onto his elbows, but Jared’s sudden no-no-no dissuades him.

“You’ll thank me when Fort McComfy is finished.”

Misha groans and closes his eyes.

# # #

“Hey,” Jared says in the dark. “You awake?”

Misha mumbles something to the effect of _I am now, you horrible fucker_ , as Jared cuddles up to him.

He brushes Misha’s bangs away from his forehead, then presses a kiss to his clammy skin. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Thanks for putting handles on the soup. Next time, though, I am absolutely peeing on your blankets.”

Jared swats him with an extra pillow.


End file.
